


A case of the flesh

by PhynixCaskey



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Dreams, F/M, First Time, M/M, Multi, Other, Post Divorce, Threesome, trickery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-09
Updated: 2015-04-09
Packaged: 2018-03-22 01:34:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3709939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhynixCaskey/pseuds/PhynixCaskey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John makes it his mission to find Irene and bring her back to Sherlock with him. But when he gets there his plan is not as he wanted, or is it?<br/>This story assumes that it is post wedding of John and Mary and that they are no longer together and to keep from reflecting on the issues he is having he tries to do everything for Sherlock.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A case of the flesh

**Author's Note:**

  * For [soo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/soo/gifts).



> un beta read, if you want to beta this please contact me.  
> I did read through it quickly but I am not sure how well I caught everything. So please forgive it if it is rough in parts that was not what was to happen.

I sat there watching the steam from my tea cup rise in little wisps of cloud, like smoke from a cigarette patterning the air around us and just giving me something else to focus on. Her eyes were always a favorite thing of mine but here she is sitting naked as the day she was born. I can see now why he calls her THE woman, there really is no other way to describe the perfect beauty in front of me. I can’t believe I am here to talk to her about him, about what is happening in our life and about her making an appearance in it again.

It took my years to find her, I always had a feeling she was not dead, always knew the woman was smarter than to let herself die at someone’s hands. But it wasn’t until something that Sherlock had said a few years ago that made me know for sure that she was still very much alive. 

She was talking to me again and I couldn’t bring myself to look at her. I was embarrassed about it all, about why I was here, about what I needed from her, and how my own body was reacting to the woman in front of me. I have had women before in my life, hell I am happily divorced with child at this point in life. And I am a doctor, I can just think of her as one of the many patients I have dealt with over the years. 

Maybe I was coming down with a fever from the travel to see her. I felt warm on my cheeks and the tips of my ears. I placed my tea cup on the saucer and put it back to the table in front of me.

“John?” She spoke so gently my name no more than a whisper in her sweet voice. It was odd to hear the Canadian accent from her, but she had to blend in to the country of snow. Why Canada? Of all the places she could hide and she picked Canada, Granted from what I have already seen of Vancouver it was very lovely, and she did blend in and if her natural accent came through in her speech it would go ignored. She could go anywhere without really being noticed. No one here seemed to care. The odd clerk asked me about my accent but they never paid attention to each other.

I have lived with Sherlock far too long to have noticed this about people. Clearing my throat I looked up at Irene Adler and realized it was not a fever that I felt but a blush as it seemed to deepen. I haven’t really seen this much of a woman in a very long time apparently, so much for treating her like a patient. Why did she insist on sitting there naked while we have tea? “Sherlock… he uh…” I stammered feeling a bit like a drowning man. I picked up my tea cup again with a shaking hand just to give me something else to focus on while I tell her why I was here.

“What about Sherlock?” She asked uncrossing her legs and re crossing the left over the right this time. In my head the mantra of don’t look kept ringing and bouncing around. The glimpse I caught out of the corner of my eye was all I needed for all semblance of control to be taken from me. I was male after all and I did love women very much. NO, I can’t, I won’t this was Sherlock’s girl, down, Baseball, down, Hockey, down, Old men in kilts golfing on a windy day. 

“Irene, would you please put on some clothes?” I asked looking her right in the eyes as my whole resolve actually kicked in and forced me to get over my own desires.

“Well Doctor Watson you impress me.” She spoke her eyes locking to mine. I couldn’t help but swallow hard. The look in her eyes was that akin to a cat’s predatory stare of a small bird, I happened to be the bird. Not noticing her get up as my eyes never left hers I felt her before I realized she had moved.

My tea cup was taken from my hand and placed back on the table that was originally between us, and she was now happily settled into my lap. Forcing myself to swallow hard, I continued to hold her eye contact as she ran a hand through my hair. “So Sherlock?” She whispered her breath brushing my cheek the sweet smell of honey form her tea tickling my senses.

“What about him?” I asked not sure what I was there for now. My own hands were running down her spine and rested on her rear. My whole mind was telling me how perfect she was. She was also very deadly and she is Sherlock’s! I shouldn’t be even thinking about her lips on mine, I shouldn’t be thinking about what it would be like to feel her body wrapped around mine. 

“I am not his you know!” She spoke as her lips started to ghost my neck and chin leaving small traces of lipstick behind I am sure. “I never was his. I am after all my own person and can take any partner I would like.” She spoke as if she could hear my thoughts. It was then I knew I was damned kissing her deeply I pulled her body tight to mine. Her accent was natural not the forced Canadian one she was getting use to using. She actually had her stunning British lit to it.

Soon I was out of breath and panting hard against her neck as she sat in my lap, my erection pushing against her thigh. Smiling at her with a bit of a lopsided smirk she smiled back before speaking. “We should move this.” She stood from my lap taking my hand in hers softly pulling me to my feet.

“An adventure in your living area doesn’t excite you?” I teased as she pulled me from the room into the halls that lead around her house. I am not sure why I was okay with her seducing me but I was fine with it. After all she was her own person,, she said it herself.

“Oh it does, but my neighbours might enjoy the show.” I looked at her then to the opened curtains in the living room. Of course Irene would have no issues with people seeing her body, her amazing body that I was following like a hormone drunk teenaged boy, in all of its wonderfully naked glory. She glanced back at me as I had stopped and our entwined fingers pulled on each other softly, “come.” It was such a simple word, almost a command in a way, one I happily followed up the stairs to a closed door.

Kissing me once more she opened the door to a large room with a four poster bed in the center, and on it laid in all his naked glory was the friend I was here for. Sherlock himself was lounging in the bed, his clothes neatly folded on a chair in the corner. It was official I lived too long with Sherlock for me to notice that his clothes were folded on a chair. 

“Took you long enough.” He gripped as Irene pulled me into the room and closed the door behind us. I was at a loss for words, after all Sherlock has a tendency to do that to me. I looked to the man on the bed and the woman who was now unbuckling my belt as she kissed my neck. I was at a loss for what was happening. It was when his eye brows arched before he crawled to the end of the bed and grabbed my jumper pulling it over my head. I knew then I didn’t find THE woman on my own, he lead me right to her. He had this all planned out from the beginning. 

 

Roughly I grabbed the back of his head and pulled him in to a deep kiss Sherlock melted against me as I felt Irene’s hands run along my legs before palming my erection through the fabric of my trousers. I moaned but it sounded distant and hollow to my ears. 

 

 

I woke with a rush of heart beats and with a raging hard on in the small room of the hotel I was staying at. The dream I just woke from was so vivid and real that my memory buzzed with scents, emotions, feelings, and I swear I even felt the touches. Blinking a few times I rubbed the palms of my hands into my eyes and glanced to the clock. It was only six in the morning here in Warm, and Stunning Vancouver, and today was the day I met with Irene Adler to discuss our friend Sherlock. 

Maybe just maybe I could convince The Woman to come home with me to my flat and bring forth the fantasy I just had. I smiled brightly as I moved to the bathroom to start my day. Even if the fantasy I enjoyed a few moments ago never got to be more then that at least I got something out of this long trek to Canada.


End file.
